Decisions
by DarthMittens
Summary: Harry had one week with Hermione before she disappeared without a trace. 15 years later, he finally finds her, and discovers why she left. Will they get their happy ending?
1. 15 Years

**A/N: Hey all! Here's my next story. Just as a fun little tidbit: I literally dreamed this whole story, then woke up and wrote it. If I had thought of it in the regular way, I probably would've made it longer and changed some stuff, but I thought it would be fun to post this story exactly as I dreamed it!**

**Please…enjoy.**

**Decisions**

**Chapter 1 – 15 Years**

**November 15****th****, 1998**

I brought my hand up to knock on Hermione's door, but stopped as my nerves threatened to overcome me again. _Come on, _I thought, _you're a man on a mission_. I steeled my resolve and knocked on the door.

Hermione answered a few seconds later, and my breath caught in my throat just as it did every time I beheld her beauty. She beamed at me, and said, "Harry, what a pleasant surprise! Come in!"

I stepped inside, and Hermione ushered me into the sitting room and sat me on her sofa. "Do you want anything to drink? I have pumpkin juice."

Me nerves were so bad that my mouth had gone absolutely bone-dry, but I knew that if I put this off right now, I would keep finding more excuses to do so. "No. Can you…can you sit down for a minute?"

Hermione frowned but complied, then asked, "What's wrong?"

I cleared my throat and took a deep breath before saying, "I have something in need to tell you." When Hermione nodded with a worried expression on her face, I continued. "I'm in love with you."

I hadn't meant for it to come out like that—I had a whole speech planned—but there it was. Now all I could do was sit and wait with my heart hammering in my chest.

Hermione's eyes teared up, but she had a giant grin on her face. "Oh, Harry. I've wanted to hear that for so long. I love you, too."

I grinned back at her, then we slowly leaned toward each other and our lips met.

**15 YEARS LATER—August 12****th****, 2014**

I woke up sweating and shaking from my worst nightmare—the nightmare that I had had a couple times every week for the past 15 years. I had dreamed of that night, the night that I had told her I loved her.

We only had one week together—most of it spent in bed—before she vanished without a trace. I still didn't know if I had said or done something wrong, but the only thing she had left was a tear-stained note that said, 'Always remember that I love you.'

I had spent the last 15 years looking for her—I don't know why I couldn't give up, I just felt like I absolutely had to find her, so I could understand. The last time I had been anywhere in Britain was 7 years ago. I had no friends, I had never dated after Hermione, so I had no family, and I had no job. I just went from country to country, using Gringott's remote withdrawal system to fund my search. I had tried making the process of finding her simple in the beginning. I simply snuck into a muggle government building under my invisibility cloak, waited until everyone had left, and magically hacked every country in the world's security system for any trace of her. But there was nothing—not even her birth records. It was like she had never existed. My best guess was that she used magic to erase all traces of her life.

I was currently in Norway, wrapping things up. After today, I was completely finished searching all of Europe. I took my map out of my backpack and crossed out Norway. I pulled out my list of countries that I was going to search and eyed the next one: USA.

**August 13****th****, 2014**

I stepped out of the International Flooport in Boston, Massachusetts. I apparated to Salem's version of Diagon Alley, which a kind wizard in the Flooport pointed out to me on a map.

Salem was the magical capital of the states, so the place was absolutely packed. Shoppers were everywhere, many of them kids most likely preparing for the new school year. I walked down the alley, taking in the differences of this magical community, which was always fun to do. America's was certainly interesting—they had TV sets that played wizarding television shows from a magical television station.

What was the same was the familiar sign of Flourish & Blotts. They had branches all over the world, as did St. Mungo's. My eyes then fell on a neon sign for a magical party store, and I decided to take a peek inside. I opened the door, and someone bumped into me. She muttered a quick, "Sorry," without looking up.

I stopped in my tracks and my breath caught in my throat—that was the same voice that had haunted my dreams for the past 15 years. I turned my head to see the familiar riot of curls weaving its way through the crowd.

I quickly followed—I didn't want to lose her. A wide range of emotions bombarded me as I realized that I had actually found her, and it had only taken 5 minutes in America. Happiness, relief, anger hurt, disbelief. But most of all, I was thinking, _finally. I found her._ She exited the alley, and I prayed to the powers that be that she wouldn't apparate.

I was lucky—she didn't. I fished out my invisibility cloak as I followed her from a safe distance, then threw it on and placed a silencing charm around it.

I knew exactly what I wanted to say to her—I just didn't exactly know how I was going to approach her.

As we arrived at her house—she fished her keys out at a nice two-story place—I couldn't help but feel that this was all surreal.

I had enough time to slip into her house as she was setting the bags, and I looked around. It was so…_Hermione_. Mahogany furniture, nice leather sofas and armchairs, and quite a few bookshelves filled to bursting with books.

Hermione locked her door and turned around, and my stomach clenched both painfully and pleasurably. It had been 15 years, but she had barely changed. Her hair was longer than I remembered, and she was more beautiful. She still wore no make-up, but looked not a day older than twenty. The only disconcerting thing was her eyes. They were filled to the brim with intelligence, just as I remembered, but that spark of life had faded. The smile lines around her eyes weren't there anymore, too. She looked…_defeated_.

She took the bags to the backyard, which was quite big. I assumed that this was a magical community, because she had a Quidditch pitch, which confused me—Hermione had always hated Quidditch. She whipped out her wand and set up a bunch of stuff for a party, which intrigued me. Her birthday wasn't until September 19th, so I assumed that she was hosting for a friend.

I didn't want to ruin her party by screaming at her, so I decided to wait until later to confront her. In the meantime, I would just kick back and observe. When Hermione went inside, I quickly conjured a chair a safe distance from the party and disillusioned it. I sat down and draped the cloak both over myself and the chair, then sat down and waited.

I passed the time leading up to the party going over what I was going to say to her when I finally did confront her. Hermione brought a bunch of food out and set it on the tables, and I glanced at my watch, which read 12:45 PM.

I assumed that the party started at one, and my guess was confirmed when guests started showing up about 5 minutes later. There weren't that many adults—they were vastly outnumbered by teenagers, which made me assume that the party was for one of the teens, probably a friend's kid.

Some of the teenagers hopped on brooms and started a pickup game of Quidditch, and Hermione chatted with the adults. The time passed quickly as I tried to assess what was going on here. I finally found a common thread—all of the teenagers were around the same age, 14-16, which confirmed my suspicion that this was one of the teen's party.

After I figured had figured that out, I took to staring at Hermione for the rest of the party, which was pretty uneventful.

It was around 7 and getting dark when Hermione floated the cake out. The singing was what birthday singing usually entailed—an unintelligible, out of tune jumble of words.

I let out a yawn, and the crowd shouted, "HAPPY 15TH, JAMES!"

My eyes shot open and I eyed the crowd. I felt anger and disbelief building in me as my eyes fell on the smiling young man in the center of the crowd. He had messy, raven-colored hair and emerald eyes filled with intelligence.

Everything glass, including the rear windows of the house, exploded. People screamed, but quickly recovered. I was absolutely furious, but I was never one to cause a scene, so I stayed seated.

As Hermione and the rest of the adults magically repaired everything, my brain went into overload. _I have a son. An almost grown-up son that I've never met. Hermione left because she knew she was pregnant…wait, that doesn't make sense. Why did she leave? I can't believe she did this. I have a son_

I bottled my anger so I could release it on Hermione later. I sat there, simmering in fury, for the last couple hours of the party. Once everyone had left, James bade his…mother…goodnight, and Hermione started cleaning up.

I silently stood up. I walked up behind her, took off the invisibility cloak, and said evilly, "Hello, Hermione."

**A/N: Ahhh! What's going to happen? The tension is killing me!**

**Haha. I know, I know. I hate it when authors end on a cliffhanger—but it's just so fun!**

**Love me, hate me, praise me, flame me—It's all good.**


	2. Explanations and a Decision

**A/N: Just to let you all know, this is only going to be 3 chapters long.**

**Please enjoy!**

**Chapter 2 – Explanations and a Decision**

_I bottled my anger so I could release it on Hermione later. I sat there, simmering in fury, for the last couple hours of the party. Once everyone had left, James bade his…mother…goodnight, and Hermione started cleaning up._

_I silently stood up. I walked up behind her, took off the invisibility cloak, and said evilly, "Hello, Hermione."_

Hermione jumped and turned around, and her eyes widened as they met mine. She opened her mouth to speak, but I snapped, "Shut up and sit down!"

Hermione meekly obeyed, sitting in a plastic chair, never taking her eyes off me. I paced in front of her for a good 30 seconds, trying to formulate a new speech, because my old one was shot to hell now that _my_ child was brought into the equation. I finally prepared something elegant and implemented it.

I walked up to her, put my hands on the arm of her chair, brought my face to within an inch of hers, and shouted, "WHY?"

She flinched and opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. "I…I…I…"

I kicked the chair next to her and shouted, "What the hell, Hermione! What the hell gave you the right to go and DO THIS!"

She finally found her voice. She stood up and shouted, "Because I wanted you to be free! Because I love you and didn't want you to have to deal with the responsibility of raising a child less than a year after you defeated Voldemort!"

I got back up in her face. "And you didn't take into consideration what I wanted! All I wanted to do in life was grow old and raise a family with YOU! I _wanted_ children!"

Hermione slowly sank back into her chair, her eyes rapidly filling with tears. She started full on sobbing, and I continued. "Instead, I spent the last 15 years trying to track you down! I've never even met my own son, and he's fifteen years old! I can't BELIEVE YOU!" I sank back down on the grass and said softly, "My whole life, Hermione. This is worse than Voldemort," I said with a disbelieving laugh.

Hermione tried to speak thickly through her sobs. "H-Harry…I…I didn't know…I'm so s-so—"

"Mom?" asked James from the back door. "I thought I heard yelling." He walked out and saw his mother crying, with me sitting there. He bunched his fists and said, "Who are you and what did you do to my mom?"

I stood up and energetically shook his hand, much to his bewilderment. I spoke with mock enthusiasm to pour the salt in Hermione's wounds. "Hi James, nice to meet you. Happy birthday, too. I would've got you something, but I didn't even know you existed." Hermione was sobbing again. "Did you know that my father's name was James, too? I'm sure your mother told you all about me! Probably not, though, because she never bothered to tell _me_ about _you_."

"Um…" James was looking at me like I was crazy. "Who are you?"

"The name's Harry. Harry Potter. What's your last name, James?"

"Potter," he said slowly. "James Potter. Are you telling me…that you're my father?"

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!" I turned to Hermione and yelled, 'Did you hear that, Hermione? Fifteen years old, and he had to ask me if I'm his father!" Hermione sobbed harder.

I took a deep breath to calm myself—I felt like an ass for using James to hurt Hermione—that wasn't fair to him. I looked at him seriously, and said, "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, James. Your mother thought she was acting in my best interest when she vanished without a trace without telling me about you." James's mouth opened in shock, and I said, "All I ever wanted were kids, and your mother took that choice away from me."

James's jaw clenched and he asked through gritted teeth, "Mom? Is that true?"

Hermione looked up, face tear-streaked, at her son. "I…I didn't know. I thought…I was doing it for him."

"What the hell, mom! I can't believe you! I…I…I hate you!"

Hermione's mouth opened and her face contorted into an expression of the deepest pain. My stomach clenched in pain _for _her. James made to leave, but I grabbed his bicep. "Apologize," I growled.

Once again, James looked at me like I was crazy. "What? No!"

"Apologize, goddammit. You should _never_ say that to your mother!"

Hermione looked up quizzically and thankfully at me. James sighed, and said, "I'm…I'm sorry, mom. I didn't mean it. I won't deny that I'm angry with you, but I…I don't hate you. I'm going to bed."

James trudged into the house, and Hermione and I were silent for a couple minutes. "Thank you," Hermione's whisper broke the silence.

"I didn't do it for you. I did because it's wrong."

A couple more minutes of silence passed before Hermione suddenly brightened and said excitedly, "Let me go get something."

I sighed, suddenly exhausted, as Hermione quickly walked into her house. Besides the little slip-up with James, that had gone quite well—I had said everything that I wanted to. Hermione came back less than a second later with something that looked somewhat like a time-turner. She tossed it in my lap as she sat down again, and I inspected the necklace. It _was_ a time-turner, except it had two hourglasses forming an X. "What is this?"

Hermione grinned smugly and said, "My newest invention. And the key to fixing all of this." I looked at her blankly, and she continued. "Think of when you want to go, turn it once, and you're there."

"So it _is_ a time-turner, except you only have to turn it once."

"Kind of. Except this one is permanent. It transports your _memories_ back into the body of the when of your choosing. Your current body just…disappears."

I felt hope bubble in my chest. "So I can go back 15 years and still remember this past 15 years?"

"Exactly. You'll be 18, and you can stop me from making the biggest mistake of my life."

"Wait a second," I said. "Why aren't _you _going?"

"I wouldn't be able to live happily if I remembered what I put you through. I'd be too guilty."

"I think it might be better if you went back. My past 15 years haven't exactly been a walk in the park either."

"I'm not saying they were," she said a touch desperately. "I just…I know that _you_ will be able to forgive me, but _I _won't."

She was right. It would be easier for me to pretend like this never happened…after all, she hadn't done anything wrong in the past yet. I would forgive her and be grateful for this second chance. "Are you sure this thing works?"

"Oh yes," she said excitedly. I've tested it myself—went five minutes into the past. Of course, I had to build a new one, which was a tad annoying…but yes, it works."

I put it around my neck. I gave Hermione a grim smile and said, "I'll see you, I guess."

She grabbed my wrist as I made to turn the hourglasses. She gave me a sad smile and said, "Harry. I'm sorry, just so you know. About all of this."

I grinned cockily at her. "About all of what? You haven't done anything wrong. None of this ever happened."

I turned the advanced time-turner while thinking of the night I told her I loved her. My last sight of the year 2014 was of Hermione smiling radiantly.

As everything came into focus, I knew that it had worked. I felt…much younger and more lively. But I knew that I wasn't at the right moment.

This model must've been faulty, because when I looked at my digital watch, it read: 7:40 AM, August 12th, 1999.

I was 19, and my son was going to be born in one day.

**A/N: Oh my god, two cliffies in a row! Oh man, I love being an author.**

**Love me, hate me, flame me, praise me—It's all good, just let me know what you think.**


	3. How to Fix What Never Happened

**A/N: Last chappie! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3 – How to Fix What Never Happened**

**August 12****th****, 1999**

I was still searching Britain on August 12th, 1999, so I quickly apparated to Grimmauld Place to pack some necessities. It felt weird being 19 again—my body moved more easily and I was quite a bit stronger.

I just packed some clothes and toiletries because I really needed to get moving. As I was locking my door, I realized that future Hermione never told me if she moved straight to Salem—we both assumed that I would arrive in a time before this ever happened.

I decided to try Salem, and hopefully she would be there. If not…well, I tried not to think like that. I apparated straight to the International Flooport, which had quite long lines. There were only ten fireplaces in the London Flooport because it was built so long ago and there was no room to expand it later, and each fireplace had a good 30 people lined up. I had no clue how long Hermione was (was going to be? Merlin, this was confusing.) in labor with James, so I was pretty anxious. I paid my 9 Galleons, got in the shortest line, and hopped from foot to foot. And although I was dead nervous about getting there in time, I was excited. _I'm going to be a father! I'm going to spend my life with Hermione!_

I checked the time when I was the next person in line to leave—it was 8:15. I stepped into the flames and shouted "Boston, USA!" before I was whisked away. I apparated straight to Hermione's street and briskly walked up to her front door. Just before knocking, I paused. How far would Hermione go with this lie? I was also quite glad I had vented all of my anger at Future Hermione, because it's just not right to shout at a 9-month pregnant woman.

I knocked on the door and smiled, glad for this second chance. Hermione opened the door after I quite a bit, and I knew that she had been preparing herself to keep up the lie. I made it my goal not to look at her stomach, and I noticed just out of the corner of my eye that there was no bump—she must've used a Glamour Charm.

The young Hermione was even more beautiful than Future Hermione, because the smile lines hadn't faded and her eyes held only the tiniest bit of sadness. She was wearing a long skirt and a baby blue tank top.

Hermione plastered a fake smile on her face and said, "Hi, Harry."

I frowned at her and asked softly, almost to myself, "That's it? You leave with a one-sentence note and after nine months you smile and say, 'Hi, Harry'?" I wasn't actually angry with her—I just wanted to make her sweat a little.

Hermione's breathing quickened a bit. "Do you want to come in?"

I went in and sat on the sofa in the sitting room, where Hermione's half-eaten breakfast was sitting on the coffee table. I noticed that the furniture looked cheaper now than it did in the future. I also noticed that there were pictures of me _everywhere_. On empty bookshelves, on the mantel, on the table—everywhere. Hermione came back with some biscuits and pumpkin juice.

I kicked back as Hermione sat stiffly in an armchair across from me. I looked at her over the rim of my cup of pumpkin juice as I took a swig, and she fidgeted under my close scrutiny. She spoke first. "How did you know where I was?"

"I asked around," I shot back. "Why'd you leave?"

I knew she had rehearsed for this, because she answered much too quickly. "Wanted a change of scenery. Try something new…you know?"

I furrowed my eyebrows and asked, "Then why didn't you tell me? I would've come with you, you know."

Sweat started beading on her forehead. "I…um…didn't want to tie you down, or make you feel obligated to come with me."

"But I _want _you to tie me down." I smiled at her. "I love you."

She smiled her first real smile. "I love you, too. But you had just defeated Voldemort. I was going to come back soon—I just wanted to give you some time."

I looked around, observing the place. "All this furniture doesn't look temporary." I craned my head to look past her shoulder. "And is that a diaper station I see set up in the other room?"

She looked everywhere but my eyes and I grinned smugly as she searched for an answer. "Um…yes. It's for a friend's baby shower."

"Then why is it set up in _your _house?"

Hermione's arm jerked and knocked her food on the ground. Her hand was shaking as she grabbed her wand and cleaned up the mess. "Oops…I should be more careful." She chuckled weakly.

"So. Why in _your_ house?" I looked at her quizzically.

She was on the brink of hyperventilation and more sweat collected on her forehead. "Um…I…I…I wanted to see how it looked before giving it to her." Her breathing eased a little.

I tilted my head and looked at her with concerned eyes. "Are you alright? You're sweating."

She swallowed and said, "Fine, just a little hot. You know what, Harry, I think maybe you should come back tomorrow. I'm kind of busy today."

"Busy with what?"

"…Work."

I arched an eyebrow. "It's Saturday."

"Housework," she blurted. "My house is messy."

I looked around—the house was immaculate. I sighed, and said, "Okay, Hermione. Housework is important. I'll be back tomorrow."

I went up to the door and Hermione followed. I put my hand on the knob and stopped, suppressing a chuckle when Hermione let out the tiniest of groans. I turned around to face her and asked, "Could you sit back down, please? I have something important to tell you."

She took a deep breath and nodded before going back to the sitting room and sitting down. I kneeled in front of her and took her hand in mine. "I know what you're doing, Hermione." Her eyes widened. "You're trying to give me freedom…to let me live my life." She relaxed a little, obviously confident that I still didn't know she was pregnant, and I gave her a quirky smile. "You never took into consideration what _I_ want." I snuck my wand out of my back pocket as I whispered, "Hermione, love, all I want to do is grow old with you and raise a family with you, starting with the little guy you're going to have any day now. _Finite Incantatem_."

The glamour disappeared, and Hermione's swollen 9-month pregnant belly came into view. Hermione started crying and said, "Oh, Harry. I'm so s—"

"Shh, shh, shh, shh. I know, I know. You were thinking in my best interests. But my best interest is _you_, and whatever is in our future. I love you, Hermione." I brought the back of her hand up to my mouth and kissed it.

"H-how did you know?"

I smiled at her. "Love, you are a _terrible _liar."

She let out a half-chuckle/half-sob, and I stood up, gently pulling her with me. She gazed up into me eyes with hers full of wonder, then wrapped me in a hug, burying her face in my chest. Her voice was muffled as she said, "I love you so much, Harry."

I cupped her chin in my fingers and gave her soft lips a gentle kiss. Just as I pulled away from her smiling lips, I heard what sounded like a liquid dripping onto the wood floor under our feet. I looked down and asked, "Hermione? What the hell is that?"

Hermione was still smiling dreamily and her eyes were still closed as she said, "That, Harry, would be my water breaking."

My eyes widened. "Oh, Merlin."

We stood in silence for a good minute with our arms still wrapped around each other until Hermione finally opened her eyes. "My hospital bag is next to the door. Can you drive?" It wasn't safe to apparate or floo while pregnant.

"Of course." I dashed to the door and held it open while Hermione hobbled out to her car. I grabbed the keys off the hook and the hospital bag before quickly locking up and racing to the car. I peeled out of there. "Where am I going?" I asked as I fought the disorientation of having to drive on the wrong side of the road.

"Make a right at the end of the street. Keep going straight for a while and you'll see a St. Mungo's."

I got onto the proper street and shot a quick smile to Hermione. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I'm glad you're here. I missed YOU!…Ow, that one hurt."

"I missed you to, love." A sudden idea popped into my head. "Hermione. I know that this isn't romantic at all and I don't have a ring right now, but will you marry me?" I quickly switched lanes to pass a slow-moving car.

Hermione's hand came to rest on my arm, and I pulled it off the wheel to intertwine my fingers with hers. I glanced over to see her smiling. A bit sweaty, but definitely smiling. "Yes, Harry. I'd love that." My heart soared." But I do expect a romantic proposal soon. I'll be sure to act surprised." She then squeezed my hand so hard that I was surprised my bones didn't shatter. Once she stopped trying to crush my hand, she breathed, "Ow." She gave my hand a soft, comforting squeeze—which seemed opposite what should've been happening—and said, "I love you, Harry."

I parked behind a hippogriff in the unloading zone, ran around the car, opened Hermione's door, and smiled. "I love you too, Hermione."

A healer rushed out and helped me get Hermione out of the car. She floated her along with a charm and asked me a series of questions about Hermione's health.

Within minutes we were set up in a room, Hermione lying down on a bed with me in a comfortable chair, holding her hand. It was only 9 AM, and I knew that James wouldn't come out until the 13th, so I braced myself for a long wait.

That had to have been the longest 20 hours of my life. It was nice, though, because Hermione was smiling most of the time, the only sign that she was giving birth was the slight contraction of her eyebrows and the tightening of her mouth—and, of course, the bone-crushing squeezing of my hand—each time she pushed.

So, at 5 AM on August 13th, 1999, a new baby was brought into the world. He was a cute little thing when he was all cleaned up. The doctor had his quill poised over the birth document and asked, "Name?"

I smiled and nodded at the sweaty, crazy-haired, bone-tired, most beautiful woman in the world lying in front of me. Without taking her eyes from mine, she said, "James. James Potter."

I guessed that I was in charge of the middle name. "James Alexander Potter." Alexander was Hermione's father's name.

Hermione gave my hand a last quick squeeze before taking out of mine for the first time in 20 hours. I pushed back the hair plastered to her forehead and gave it a quick kiss. She sighed happily when the healer-in-training handed James to her.

We looked down at him together, and Hermione suddenly turned her head and gave me a peck on the lips. "I love you, Harry."

I smiled as I thought of everything that had—and now hadn't—happened. "I love you too, Hermione. I love you too."

**Epilogue – 15 Years Later**

"Happy birthday, James!" James's 7-year-old sister, Miranda, shouted as she handed him the card she made.

Hermione was sitting on my lap with her head resting on my shoulder as we watched our eldest of 5 open his birthday presents. We were holding a small family party in our house in London with just me, Hermione, Hermione's parents, 13-year-old Lily, 10-year-old Sirius, 8-year-old Aurora, and little Miranda, who we called Mindy.

James ripped open his gift, which turned out to be new seeker gloves. He looked at the brand name, and his face split into a massive grin. "No way."

"Yes way," I grinned right back at James. "QuidditchTech's newest seeker gloves, with a built in heating charm if it senses that your hands are cold."

"Put them on, James," said Hermione a little too innocently.

James pulled open the left glove to put it on his hand, and seven tickets fell out of it. "Holy Merlin! England vs. Australia Quidditch World Cup Finals tickets!"

"Yep! In 3 days, all the way in Spain."

James mouthed 'wow' before putting on his seeker gloves, which fit perfectly. "Slytherin is so going down this year!"

We all laughed, even Hermione's parents. I tightened my grip on Hermione and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She smiled radiantly at me, and I was hit with the image of the same smile, from the same beautiful face, on the same day, from Future Hermione, except that it wasn't the future anymore, and never had been. It was all just a memory.

**A/N: The End! Look out for my next fic!**

**Love me, hate me, flame me, praise me—just leave a review, please. I love hearing what you all have to think.**


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